


Take All of Me (i just wanna be the girl you like)

by rbcch



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, And Katya is out of this planet at this point, Angry Sex, Basically a PWP, Fluff, Jealous Pearl, M/M, Miss Fame has got no idea what she's doing tuck wise, Pearl is just a major softie, Rough Sex, Smut, They're interrupted a lot, Yes hello I went there, bottom Violet, sex in drag, top Pearl, without proper porn or plot whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbcch/pseuds/rbcch
Summary: There’s a tap on Violet’s shoulder. She turns around. Matt is standing behind them.“Violet,” he says and his voice is a familiar lazy drawl, but there’s something intense about his posture, something dangerous, something Violet doesn’t recognise. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Like, alone.”Or, Violet helps Miss Fame tuck and Pearl is having none of it.





	Take All of Me (i just wanna be the girl you like)

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, TW - angry sex, Pearl is being borderline aggressive and violent but Violet likes it, a bit of slut shaming, they curse quite a bit.
> 
> So there's this brilliant video that Miss Fame has done with Nikkie, and at some point they discuss tucking and Fame tells that she basically didn't know how to tuck until Violet physically showed her how it's done during the FW and she's just so genuine and cute in that video, and yes my dirty mind still went there.
> 
> I actually had a mental breakdown while working on a soulmate AU so I wrote this to distract myself from it. Like my momma always said, "When in doubt, write some smut" (she's never actually said that). And then I actually had a mental breakdown about this, too. Because mental breakdowns are my forte, unlike writing, apparently.
> 
> Couple of things, really:  
> 1) She/her for Violet because they're in drag (same goes for the rest of the queens). Matt/he/him/his for Pearl because he's out of drag and also because I lowkey think Matthew is the hottest name ever. I'm gonna name all my kids Matthew. I don't even want kids but they're still all gonna be named Matthew.
> 
> 2) I know how tucking works, in medical terms. I have no fucking idea what actually happens because I, unfortunately, do not have a dick.
> 
> 3) If you don't know where the title's from, Carmen Carrera will probably want to talk to you. Or never speak to you again, who knows.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this little smutty one shot, babies, and leave a comment, please xx

The dressing room is noisy and full of half naked men running around in full makeup and wigs on their heads. It reminds Violet a lot of the workroom during the Race, except there’s no cameras around and people are actually talking to her. Like, proper talking and not sneering at her every comment and telling her that she’s a little bitch (which, granted, she still is).

It’s New York Fashion Week and they’ve wanted a bunch of season seven queens to do a show together. It must have been a nightmare to arrange with all of them scattered all around the country, and the world, with their busy-ass schedules, but somehow they’ve done it and now they’re all here, more or less. Trixie looks like she’s still in California, three hours behind. Katya is chunking her fourth Red Bull and looks like she’s not even in this stratosphere anymore. 

Violet is sitting on the sofa, her legs bent under herself gracefully. She’s in full drag already, good to go on stage whenever they tell her to. She likes to be early rather than run around in a panic trying to simultaneously glue her lashes on and paint her eyebrow on, which is exactly what Trixie is doing right now. Violet chuckles under her breath while observing Trixie’s struggle. She loves the bitch, but that girl is one unorganised mess. Also, Violet is pretty sure that she just used some of that wig glue on her lashes. How is Trixie still alive is beyond Violet.

Matt is lying on the sofa, head in Violet’s lap, sending some silly selfies on SnapChat, and she’s playing with his hair gently. He’s complained it’s overgrown, way too long and messy, but Violet likes it like this, loves the way she can push her fingers into it and pull when Matt is pressing her against sheets or teasing her with his tongue on her inner thigh. He’s still out of drag, mainly because he’ll be playing his DJ set at the afterparty so his appearance is planned to happen way later than the rest of them, and the only thing he’s bothered to do so far is carefully shave off all of his stubble, but other than that he’s as far away from Pearl as he’ll ever get.

“Whatcha wanna do for dinner tonight, pumpkin?” he asks her between making silly faces at the camera.

“I’m indifferent,” she combs his hair out of his face.

“Can we order in some Italian? I don’t feel like going out and we’ve got that bottle of red.”

“I’d love that,” she smiles and he goes back to snapping.

Violet looks around. Katya has managed to go from a recovering meth addict to a stunning beauty that she is in those short moments that Violet wasn’t paying attention. Miss Fame is practically naked in the middle of the room, tucking. Max is concentrated on painting a mole on his skin. Trixie is screaming that she’s blinded herself with that wig glue but Violet isn’t too worried because she looks pretty damn confident in where she’s walking for a blind person, dodging bodies, heels, and abandoned garments on the floor.  Kandy has got a curler in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other one, and she’s apparently trying to style both her wig and the lace at the same time. It’s a full on circus.

Violet wants to laugh until she realises something and snaps her attention back to Fame.

“Girl,” she calls out. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Fame whips around and shoots Violet an annoyed look, “I’m tucking. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Bitch, no,” Violet cries out. “That looks fucking brutal. Why on earth are you pulling all of it back?”

“That’s how I’ve always tucked,” Fame shrugs.

“Are you kidding me? Your balls go up, not back.”

Fame looks at her with astonished look on her face, like she isn’t following Violet at all, “Girl, my balls..?”

“Oh, my God,” Violet sighs. “Let me show you.”

She taps Matt’s bicep gently and he lifts his head enough for her to slip from underneath him and onto her feet. He flops back onto sofa as soon as she’s gone.

She kneels in front of Fame and pushes Fame’s hands out of her way with a little laugh and a _Let me do it_.

“So your balls go up like they would when it’s really cold,” she explains as she pushes Fame’s balls up into the pocket. “And then,” she stands up and circles Fame so that she’s standing behind the other queen. “You pull your penis back firmly but gently and finish it with a little piece of duct tape,” she’s still describing what she’s doing. “No need to be so fucking violent with yourself.”

“Oh, wow,” Fame says shifting her weight from one foot to another. “This does feel considerably different. Guys, I’m a woman now!”

If someone reacts to that, it’s lost in all the noise and running around, but Fame beams at Violet  like she’s just saved her manhood. Which, to be fair, she probably did. That tucking method of hers didn’t look exactly safe.

There’s a tap on Violet’s shoulder. She turns around. Matt is standing behind them.

“Violet,” he says and his voice is a familiar lazy drawl, but there’s something intense about his posture, something dangerous, something Violet doesn’t recognise. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Like, alone.”

“Sure, baby,” she says and before she’s realised it, he has grabbed her upper arm in quite a violent manner and is walking her out of the dressing room.

“Ouch, Matt, what the fuck?” she hisses struggling a bit to match his pace in her heels. “You’re hurting me.”

He just squeezes her arm harder in response and throws the door open, pushing her out of the room. Everyone is luckily too busy with whatever it is they’re doing to notice Matt and Violet’s little interaction.

He throws her at the wall as soon as they’re out of the room and he’s slammed the door shut behind them. She bumps her elbow nastily against the stonewall and the pain makes her hiss again. He presses his body against hers and sinks his teeth into the skin between her shoulder and neck. She yelps in the mixture of surprise and awakening arousal.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing going around touching other dicks?” he growls into her ear.

“I was helping her tuck, Matt, what the hell,” she squeaks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says harshly, presses his lips against her neck and sucks violently. Her skin is throbbing when he removes his lips and she can feel a mark forming already. That will be a bitch to cover later.

There’s a sound of a door being opened down the hallway. Matt’s reaction is instant. He detaches himself from Violet and lifts one of his palms next to her head, leaning on it and straightening her pose with his other hand. She’s still leaning her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. From a decent distance this looks like they’re having a calm private conversation.

A member of crew walks toward  them, eyeing them with no particular interest whatsoever.

“Alright?” Matt smiles at him as he passes them, managing to sound delightful. The guy just smiles back at them and nods without stopping. They both follow him with their eyes as he continues down the hall and takes a right turn at the end of it.

As soon as the guy is out of sight, Matt wraps his fingers around Violet’s wrist and yanks her away from the wall. Her eyes widen but she swallows any sound her mouth is trying to produce in case the guy is still within the hearing distance. Matt brings two of his fingers to Violet’s jaw and trails them down her skin gently and the total, 180 degree change in his behaviour surprises Violet more than anything else has so far. She leans into his touch instinctively and something in his eyes darkens at that. He grabs her neck with the same hand that was caressing Violet just a second ago and crashes his mouth into hers.

It’s more teeth and tongues than it is lips. Violet wouldn’t even call it a kiss.  It’s just violent and hungry attempt to gain an upper hand on one another, a desperate fight for control.

“You’ll mess up my lipstick, bitch,” she spits out wit a challenge in her voice when Matt abandons her lips for a breath of air.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Whore,” he says in a low voice and smashes their lips together again, pushing his hand into her hair this time. Thank fuck she secured that wig with enough bobby pins to survive an apocalypse.

They struggle for the dominance again. He pulls her hair, hard. She sinks her nails into his shoulders. He grabs her hip and squeezes, pulling her even closer to himself. She bites his lower lip. He lifts her leg and smacks the bare skin of her thigh that her outfit reveals. She draws her nails down his biceps. He starts pushing her somewhere, one hand still tangled in her hair  and the other firmly on her hip. She just rolls with it. So much for being a top dog in this situation.

She can’t see where they’re going as Matt is backing her up, and even if he wasn’t, she’s  beginning to be too turned on to care. She just wants Matt to lead them somewhere more private than the backstage hallway of some random venue she can’t remember the name of right now.

They stumble through a door, falling into a room, lips still locked and growling at each other between kisses and bites. There’s a choking sound coming from behind them.

They part and Violet looks around. They are in another dressing room, this one considerably less messy than the one they just left and definitely not occupied, except for Ginger Minj who’s sitting on a sofa identical to the one Violet was sitting on just about ten minutes ago, phone on her ear and whomever it is on the other side of the line long forgotten as she stares at them, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Ginger,” Matt growls lowly, his chest rising and falling quickly. “You’ve got exactly three seconds to fuck all the way off or you’ll see things you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to unsee.”

It is the first time in Violet’s life that she witnesses Ginger just silently oblige, without a word of complain or any questions. It is also probably the fastest she’s ever seen anyone leave a room.

Matt turns his attention back to Violet and it makes something in Violet’s gut twist with excitement and the thrill of danger.

“You,” Matt is still growling. “If you wanna go around acting like a little whore, then I’ll take you like a little whore.”

His words make Violet feel hot all over. She wants his hands back on her body.

“Fuck you,” she spits out.

“Oh, no,” he laughs lowly. “I’m going to fuck _you_ and you’re going to take it like you were born to, you slut.”

He tightens his grip on her wrist again and she fights it a little, not for freedom but for the thrill of it and because it seems to work Matt up even more when she resists him.

He drags her across the room and pushes her behind a dressing screen in one of the corners, following her and yanking a rack full of clothes behind himself to hide them. This way, with a dressing screen on one side of them and a rack on the other  they’re out of sight if someone decides to enter the room.

He pushes her against the wall again, like she’s some kind of a human Super Ball that will just bounce right up no matter how many times you throw her against any hard surface.

Matt’s lips are back on hers before she has time to complain about the lack of contact and this time it’s deeper, sloppier but still as demanding as it was in the hallway. He brings his hands on the back of Violet’s legs and lifts her, and she wraps her legs around him so that she’s in the air, pinned between the concrete and Matt’s body. He supports her with one of his hands, though she thinks it’s more of en excuse to squeeze her ass than an actual attempt to make this position more comfortable for her. His other hand forces her arm up, above her head, and then he does the same thing to her other arm, pinning her wrists against the wall .

Violet tries to wiggle against Matt’s dick. Her own tuck is getting very uncomfortable and a little bit painful. She needs some relief and she needs it soon. She knows she can’t ask for it, though

Matt moves his mouth to Violet’s earlobe and bites the skin behind Violet’s ear. A moan escapes her lips as his action sends shivers down her spine and makes her muscles feel like they’ll start spasming at any given moment and she feels him chuckle against her neck smugly. He knows exactly how sensitive that area is for her, that bastard.

He takes a step back and lets her land back on her feet which she does with a surprising amount of grace for a person who’s lost control over their body about four bite marks ago. Matt hooks his index and middle fingers under a chocker she’s wearing and he pulls, making her move so that he has an easier access to her neck.

His teeth and tongue on her neck make her whimper so loudly that she almost misses the sound of someone entering the room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Matt hisses with frustration and covers her mouth with his palm to muffle any sounds. At the same fucking time his fingers play with the waistband of her panties, because he’s a smug motherfucker with a very twisted sense of humour and Violet kind of hates him (except she doesn’t).

“Violet?”

Of fucking course it has to be Fame. Because Matt is clearly not jealous enough as it is.

She arches her eyebrow. Matt does virtually nothing to either lift his hand from her mouth or stop teasing her. Instead he pushes his fingers further down Violet’s panties, not touching her dick but brushing dangerously close to it.

“Violet, are you in here?” Fame repeats.

“Will you behave like a good girl?” Matt whispers into Violet’s ear. She nods, he lifts his palm off of her mouth.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she says and fuck if her voice isn’t hoarse and full of desire.

“We’re up in, like, twenty, you ready?” Fame asks.

“Uh-huh,” Violet swallows as Matt slowly pushes her panties down. “I’ll be ready by then.”

“Are you okay in there? You sound funny,” Fame says.

“Yeah, yeah, just a little outfit crisis,” Violet tries to laugh. Matt moves his lips back behind her ear and starts to nibble. She’ll kill him once they’re done fucking.

“Need any help, baby?”

“Uhhh, um, no, I’m good,” Violet hurries to say. Matt sinks his teeth into her skin after Fame calls her baby. She almost moans out loud. “Just go, I’ll join you in a second.”

She stops listening to Fame’s response once it’s clear she’s about to leave the room. Her and Matt’s lips  lock again as soon as the door is closed behind the queen and Violet is moaning  like she’s got no shame whatsoever.

“You know what you need, _baby_?” Matt says mockingly and flips Violet around, her front up against the cold stone now. “You need some good fucking to remind you who you belong to.”

Violet whimpers at that and pushes her ass against Matt’s crotch. It earns her another smack across her thigh. She moves her ass again, feeling extra daring. The next spank lands on her ass. She whines in the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Matt’s fingers are tangled in her hair and he’s pulling it hard to get her to move her head and expose her neck. She does and he sucks another mark on her skin.

“Just fucking fuck me already,” Violet groans. “I have to be onstage in twenty, bitch.”

Matt grunts in response and presses her head against the wall so that her cheek is leaning against the cold surface and she can’t move to see what’s going on around her. He rips her panties off of her, leaving the rest of her outfit untouched, and then he finally untucks her and it must be the most amazing feeling. Her dick immediately curves up, not being forced into the unnatural position anymore, and it’s so hard it’s actually starting to hurt a little. She grabs herself, which immediately leads into a painful slap on her wrist. She pulls her hand away.

“Whore,” Matt whispers hoarsely. “Don’t even think about it. Not until I say so.”

She hears him unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down behind her, and she’s pretty sure he doesn’t bother stepping out of them or removing his shirt. She  kicks her heels off to lessen the height difference and give Matt better angle. He presses a tiny gentle kiss on the nape of her neck for that and she chuckles silently. Even in the middle of heated rough sex he’s still secretly a softie, that boy.

His dick is at her entrance, and he’s moving his hips infuriatingly slowly and when Violet closes her eyes she can imagine his smirk and teasing twinkle in his eyes. She tries to push her ass against his dick but that attempt is shortly interrupted by another slap across her thigh.

“Bitch,” she  groans.

“Slut,” Matt shoots back.

“I hate you,” she hisses at him.

“I hate you more,” he spits back and pushes into her.

Matt’s pre-cum is just about enough lubrication for all of this to be on a pleasurable side of painful. He removes his hand from Violet’s face and sinks his fingers into her hips instead, holding her as he thrusts into her and she sobs at how painful and rough and good and right and perfect it is.

He hits her prostate. She howls. He keeps the angle and pushes into her again and again and again. Her string of _bitch, yes, yes, hate you, oh, so good, more, bitch_ becomes tangled and incoherent. He bites her shoulder as he fucks into her, breaking the skin. She whimpers with pleasure and meets his thrusts.

Matt pulls out of her and flips her around again. Violet wraps her hands around his neck and smashes their lips together. Matt lifts her again, she throws her legs around his waist. He pushes his dick back into her, holding her up with his arms this time around.

She  can feel him inside of her better in this position. Every time he moves in and out of her, she can feel it in the pit of her stomach and it feels amazing. Matt brings one of his hands on her neck and chokes her. Violet’s oxygen deprived brain loses all that little control that she thought she had left.

Matt’s grunts become more and more impatient with every push and pull. He lets go of Violet’s throat and she gasps for air desperately. The rush of fresh air in her lungs and the feel of Matt inside of her release an explosion of endorphins in her. She feels lightheaded. She feels fucking high. It’s exhilarating. It’s empowering and weakening at the same time.

Matt’s moves lack any finesse. He’s just fucking into Violet, chasing his release. She brings her hand to her own dick and strokes, tries to stay in sync with Matt but it’s nearly impossible as he messes it up and starts again with a completely new rhythm more often than he actually manages to keep one up.

“Fuck, Violet,” she feels his hoarse moan on her skin and she threads her other hand through his hair,  pulling it and her strings of _fuck you’s_ and _I hate you’s_ is replaced by a string of _Matt, Matt, Matt, Mattie_.

Matt comes with another grunt and they almost collapse. He steadies them against the wall and pushes Violet’s hand out of the way, more gently this time. He grabs her dick and strokes it with the same roughness and demand that he was fucking into Violet with just a second ago. She’s so on edge it takes her embarrassingly small amount of slides up and down her dick and she’s coming all over herself.

Matt puts her down carefully when her muscles stop spasming and holds her up against his chest. Everything about him is completely different, his movements, the way he looks at her, his careful gentleness.

“That was fucking hot,” he whispers into her ear and she hears a smile in his voice.

“Uh-huh,” she says, unable to produce anything else.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Matt strokes her cheek.

“Only in the best way possible,” she promises.

He wraps his arms around her and tries to press her even closer to himself, “I love you.”

“I love you too, you jealous fuck,” she laughs.

They stay like that for a bit, Matt cuddling her and Violet breathing in his scent. Finally she pushes him farther and looks down at herself.

Her outfit is ruined. Her panties are ripped and probably not to be found. Her handmade fucking corset is covered in come, so it’s as gone as the panties. There’s a tear in one of her stockings. Her bra is probably the only piece of clothing that survived this.

“I can’t go out of this room like this,” she says.

Matt laughs and pulls the first thing he reaches off the rag, handing it to Violet. It’s a caftan.

“Serving some Honey Mahogany realness here,” she snorts as she pulls it on.

“I think you look hot,” he says straightening the caftan. As if it’ll make any difference if her fucking caftan is on point or not. The rest of her is demolished anyway.

“You just say that to get laid,” she scoffs and steps into her pumps.

They emerge from their little hiding place at the same time as the dressing room door opens and furious Michelle Visage walks in, Katya and Trixie in tow. Katya barks out a laughter and falls out of the room as soon as she sees them. Michelle and Trixie just stare.

“What the hell is this, Violet?” Michelle says. “We’re supposed to be onstage in five.”

There’s a mirror behind her and Violet takes a look at herself. Oh, yeah, no. There’s no way  she can go on stage like that. The Caftan could maybe fool everyone, if her wig wasn’t sliding back and her lipstick wasn’t smeared all over her chin and even cheeks. Also one of her lashes is glued to her cheekbone instead of her lashline. And her neck is full of marks turning a very beautiful shade of blackish purple. Matt should be proud of his handiwork.

“Um,” Violet says. “If I could just get, like, an extra five minutes or so.”

“Extra five minutes? _Extra five minutes, Chachki_? This mess will take a little bit more than five minutes to clean up. You reek of sex, you look like sex, you sound like sex, you fucking radiate sex, and I don’t mean this as a compliment,,” Michelle cries out.

“Well sex sells, doesn’t it?” Matt says with a smirk.

“Out of my sight, both of you. Never have I ever had a winner and a runner-up more irresponsible and reckless than the two of you,” Michelle sighs.

They have enough decency to look sheepish when they pass Michelle and Trixie and leave the room, but they burst into laughter as soon as they’re in the hallway again. Violet wraps her arms around Matt and looks him in the eye. There’s small smile lines around his eyes. Violet loves them.

“Promise not to make   a habit of going around helping people tuck?” Matt jokes.

“Or,” Violet says with a mischievous smile. “I could totally make a habit of it and you could make a habit of showing me just how jealous you get.”

“I think I could live with that, too,” Matt laughs and kisses her.


End file.
